


Scarecrow Week 2018 | October 25-31

by QueerGrasshopperLeaps



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: 3-Sentence Prompt Fills, Course Syllabus, Fear Toxin Experimentation, Gen, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares & Night Terrors, Phobias & Fears, Scriddler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2019-08-17 04:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16509464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerGrasshopperLeaps/pseuds/QueerGrasshopperLeaps
Summary: #ScarecrowWeek2018 is a week dedicated to Dr. Jonathan Crane, the event created by jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear on Tumblr.





	1. Day I: Phobia's & Fears

_"I like to experiment with people's fears, see what motivates them, what scares them."_

_\- Marilyn Manson_

* * *

 

                Giving the leather strap one last sharp tug, Jonathan ensured the wrist remained secured to the chair. The other restraints were already in place, assuring the subject stayed taut and unmoving against the seat. He seemed satisfied with the tightness, for he proceeded to grab an alcohol prep pad from the counter and rip it open. After tossing the paper remnants in the bin, he rubbed the pad over the crook of the subject's elbow, sterilizing the patch of skin where the needle will be inserted.

                Despite the participant being unconscious, he continued his drill, a blank expression draped over his features. It was a routine he has completed an innumerable amount of times.

                It was only when the restrained subject began to stir a few moments later that he looked up from his task. 

                " _Welcome to the land of the living,"_  he spoke, disposing of the used pad, " _However, I fear that shallow achievement will soon come to an abrupt end."_

                The patient's eyes widened--despite the sedative just wearing off--as an understanding of the statement washed over and jolted him from somnolence. 

                Jonathan turned to his workstation, directing his attention to the vial and enclosed needle set out. Once the packaging for the syringe was discarded, he drew out a three-milliliter dosage of toxin from the glass ampule, dexterous hands performing the task in a manner one might call automatic. He removed the needle, ensuring the correct amount of substance was contained within before returning his regard to the subject. 

                " _FT-528. Properties: mildly corrosive, causes vivid hallucinations, and induces tetraplegia_   _paralysis. The other patients who underwent this same procedure died within three minutes. I'm hoping your case will not differ greatly."_

                Once the words were spoken, Crane's gloved fingers searched for a vein in the sterilized forearm, ignoring the stifled pleas emitting from the subject. He located one, immediately sliding the needle in and inserting its contents into his system. 

                The toxin produced an almost-instantaneous effect, movement ceasing at an incredibly fast rate. Jonathan threw away the used needle in a separate bin before retrieving a timer from the counter, pressing start right away. Due to already running numerous previous tests with the same compound, the effects were already neatly documented and filed away. He only needed to ensure how quickly the toxin worked, for if it did fall under the three-minute mark again, it would be ready for field deployment. 

                Despite the format in which Crane was testing the compound, that didn't entail he was required to be purely concerned with the toxin's time restraints; he did take some joy in seeing what the general population of Gotham had to fear. Some phobias were more prevalent than others, such as coulrophobia, yet finding individuals who possessed more obscure ones was always a treat. The fact was especially true when he had a chance to exploit them. 

                The toxin continued its work, as concluded from the dilation of his pupils and the perspiration beading at his temples and slack hands. Strangled sounds left him, the incapability to string together syllables rendering him unable to convey precisely what hallucinations were currently plaguing him. The only indication of what was inducing fear was the subject's widened eyes darting around his own body, gaze directed at an imagined, frightening thing which seemed to be creeping up his form.

                After approximately another minute of choked cries and heavy breathing, the noise began to gradually die down, the final remainders of the man beginning to leave. Jonathan caught notice of this, two fingers coming to find a pulse point on the other's wrist. The beat was steadily slowing down. 

                Once he couldn't detect a pulse any longer, he ended the stopwatch, the device reading 2:34. 

                " _I do believe its finally ready for the field, don't you think?"_ he asked, the query directed at the corpse beside him.


	2. Day II: Nightmares & Night Terrors

_"Trauma makes fear. Fear isn't always curled up and eyes watering, waiting for arms to hold and protect you. Sometimes fear is rage, eyes still watering, biting any hand that comes close to you."_

_\- Unknown_  

* * *

  

        Nursing the cool glass with an unsteady hand, he brought the water to his lips. Jonathan took a small drink, eyes staring, unseeing, at the rain running down the other side of the window. The beverage was meant to ground him, the perspiration on the glass and the coolness of the water intended to keep his thoughts railed. 

        Perhaps it was the lightly-punctured darkness surrounding him, deviated from its usually comforting grasp to an oppressive weight. Or the shadows dancing outside from streetlamps and wind-whipped trees, causing his eyes to catch things which were not present. Whichever cause it was, his mind and surroundings did not help in shaking off the night terrors recently endured. 

        It was an embarrassing thing, the self-proclaimed "Master of Fear" suffering from them. However, what used to induce extreme panic and terror now only provided mild anxiety. It was still a subject he'd rather not touch upon, though, and the timing for experiencing such was poor, especially since Edward was currently sleeping the next ro--

        A pair of arms wrapping around his middle halted his thoughts. He tensed, feeling the grip tighten and a cheek rest along the back of his shoulder in response. The murmurs of "Come back to bed, Jon," reached his ears.

        He shook his head, carefully placing the glass on the windowsill. "Can't sleep."

        Edward hummed accordingly. "I can't, either. Come, please." He lifted his head to press his nose against the back of Jonathan's ear. His tone was sleep-tinged, roughened syllables washing over his ears as the statement was uttered.

        Jonathan nodded, taking one last drink of water before he laced his fingers with the other male's and slowly removed them from around his waist. He was sure Edward could feel the shakiness of his hands, but the genius did not comment. 

        Turning, Jon nodded again and followed him. 

        He felt vulnerable, a feeling he deeply resented, due to the exploits of other individuals in the past. Yet, Edward displayed no indication of mentioning whatever was plaguing him, much less taking advantage of the situation. He only delivered solace. It provided a stark contrast from previous occurrences and presented itself as a truly relieving fact, one that Jonathan would be forever grateful for.


	3. Day III: Scythes & Syringes

_"Everything you've ever wanted is on the other side of fear."_

_\- George Addair_

 

* * *

  

 

         A hand remained secured around the intruder's neck as Jonathan braced a syringe near the jugular. The grip on the other's neck was not particularly strong, but it provided enough warning indicating Crane was not to be trifled with at the moment.

        "I must say, doctor, I imagined this scenario playing out quite differently in my head."

        "And such are the woes of presumptuousness, Edward."

        The genius smiled cheekily in response.

        "What are you doing here?" Jonathan inquired, tone clipped and bordering no argument.

        Edward's grin grew wider. His hand came up from his side to grasp at the front of Crane's shirt as he attempted to lean closer, eyes locked with the other.

        Jonathan's grip on Nygma's neck tightened briefly in warning, but he withdrew the syringe and allowed him to continue his advances. He had to admit, he was curious as to what Edward's intentions were.

        However, he was surprised when the other's lips locked with his. Crane did nothing, remaining passive as Edward continued his efforts to deepen the kiss. He froze slightly when he felt Nygma's other hand beginning to card through his hair. 

        Edward swiped his tongue across Jonathan's bottom lip before pulling away, a smirk making itself known on his features. He sent a challenging gaze to Crane.

        "You're treading on dangerous territory, Edward. I suggest watching your step."

        "Then let's dance."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Finally updating this after 8 months? More likely than you would think!


	4. Day V: The Devious Professor

_"It's time to taste what you most fear."_

_\- Dead Kennedys_

 

* * *

**Advanced Behavioral Psychology**

**Course Syllabus**

**Course ID: PSYCH 491**

**Lecture Hrs.: 3 | Credit Hrs.: 3**

 

**Instructor** **:** Professor Jonathan Crane                                            

**Email** **:**  [REDACTED]

**Class Hours** **:**  Mon./Wed./Fri. **|**  8:30 p.m. – 10:00 p.m., PSY 528

**Office** **:**  PSY 013                

**Office Hours** **:**  Tues.  **|** 8:00 p.m. – 10:00 p.m. or by appointment

* * *

**Course Description** : This course focuses on in-depth research of common and rare psychological behavioral health and issues, including development, diagnosis, and treatment, as well as cognition, memory, and philosophical thought.

**Course Prerequisites** : PSYCH 101, PSYCH 137, & PSYCH 305

**Required Texts** :

  *   _Abnormal Psychology,_ Comer
  * _Statistics for the Behavioral Sciences,_  Nolan & Heinzen



**Assessments** :

  * _Reports_  – multiple assigned per section, due dates determined at the time of assignment. Worth 10% of your grade.
  * _Project_ s – assigned as determined by the instructor, usually every few sections. Worth 20% of your grade.
  * _Examinations_  – tests are given at the end of each completed section. Worth 30% of your grade.
  * _Final Exam_  – examination is given at the end of the semester, covering all material taught within the class. Worth 40% of your grade.



**No extra credit will be given. No exceptions.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day IV, prompt Crows, Ravens, and Corvids, is currently skipped.


	5. Day VII: Halloween (Free Day)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of mostly 3-Sentence prompt fills

_"Fear defeats more people than any other one thing in the world."_

_\- Unknown_

 

* * *

 

Prompt: Hold My Hand (Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma)

 

        Jonathan nursed a chilled glass of gin in his hand as he lounged casually in the booth of the Iceberg Lounge, accompanied by Edward, who was sipping his own choice of expensive whiskey. Silence rested over the two men, and, as he sensed Nygma growing steadily bored, Jonathan felt Edward's hand trail over his and grasp the spider-like digits within his own; however, with a stolen glance, he saw a frown settle on the genius' features as he removed his hand from the light grip.   
     _No_ , Jonathan thought,  _not now_. 

 

\---

Prompt: Blue (Harley Quinn & Jonathan Crane)

 

        The only sound outside of Harley's sobs was the pounding of rain landing on concrete and an occasional clap of thunder, the timing for such weather perfect to match her mood. She had been kicked out by her puddin'--again--and she stood outside of an apartment; Harley took a few deep breaths to compose herself before she brought her fist up to knock weakly on the wood of the door.  
    After a few moments, the door to the flat opened to reveal Jonathan Crane, a knowing expression covering his features as he allowed Harley to enter.

 

\---

Prompt: Good Riddance (Jonathan Crane & Granny Keeny)

 

        It hadn't taken much, only a night in the chapel to finally lead the old crone to her death. When morning came, Jonathan remained hidden in a cobwebbed corner near the entrance, shovel in hand and raised above his head. The old, wooden door creaked open to reveal Granny Keeny to allow him to leave the building, but, upon not immediately spotting the young man, she carefully stepped into the oratory. The action proved to be her fatal mistake as when she entered, Jonathan swung the shovel with all the strength he possessed, effectively caving in her skull. He ensured her death by beating the corpse with the spade a few more times, a sigh of relief escaping him when he finally dropped the shovel beside the remains of the woman who had made his life a living hell.

 

\---

Prompt: Coming Home

 

        Jonathan observed the decaying manor in front of him with a detached stare. The estate was in worse condition than he left it in: most of the shutters were either hanging by a single hinge or dropped to the ground altogether, the paint was faded, and the yard resembled a waist-high jungle. After a moment, he made his way through the all-familiar path to the front door, re-entering the gateway to hell, and, for once, it felt a little like coming home.


End file.
